


note to self: i miss you terribly

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, First Time, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-20
Updated: 2007-04-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 10:09:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8746084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: I suck at summaries(as I've said before)...It's Wincest in later chapters and filled with angst until then. Any questions? Formerly: Remember When





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

  
Author's notes: I know it's been forever since I've posted and I'm sorry! I've been trying to get back into the swing of things and with stupid class assignments and fan girling it up with my friend...lol I suck, I know. But here is something I've been playing with for a while. Took me a few weeks but I finally got the inspiration to finish it. Hopefully it's up to par, if not...well, I apologize in advance!   


* * *

_I remember two years ago_

_when you broke down and cried to me_

_about how you couldn't be alone_

_how you needed me next to you you made me promise on your tears_

_to never let you be without my voice inside your ears_

_-Armor For Sleep: “Very Invisible”_

 

Sam slammed his history book shut, resisting the urge to throw it out the window. Just the thought of hearing the glass shatter around him had him up on his feet and pacing. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t get these thoughts out of his head.

 

He was wound up so tight he’d already snapped at Jess badly enough for her to leave for the weekend, staying at Lisa’s, she said. Sam knew he should feel bad about it but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. He needed the space. Needed to breathe.

 

Lately she’d been suffocating him. Everything she did or said put him on edge, made him grit his teeth and clench his fists just to keep quiet. He didn’t want to hurt her, but god damn he couldn’t take much more.

 

For two years he’d been able to get along just fine. He had friends, class, and a great girlfriend. He had almost everything he’d ever wanted, except one thing. But he’d survived without it for the past two years without some insane urge to break everything in sight or drive his girlfriend as far away from him as possible.

 

What had suddenly changed for him?

 

That was a stupid question. He knew what it was almost as soon as he questioned his behavior. It was his brother’s birthday in a week. And that had brought everything rushing back. Every memory they’d ever shared. Every fight, every hug, every joke, every god damn thing.

 

_That_ night was especially clear. His brother’s birthday two years earlier he’d been here in California, so far from his family and everything he’d ever known. Thrown into some bizarre world of normal.

 

Everything about that night had seemed so wrong. The broken look on his brother’s face, the way his touch was desperate instead of angry like when he’d left. He’d said-

 

Dammit. He wasn’t going to dwell on that. He had a test tomorrow. He had a life to worry about, a _new_ one that didn’t include the older brother he’d always worshipped. And that was Dean’s choice, not Sam’s. He’d made it clear that night what he felt…

 

Frustrated, Sam slammed his fists against the wall with as much restraint as possible. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d put a hole in the wall, but he didn’t have a ready answer for Jess this time. There was no blaming it on a fight with his brother that had gotten out of hand after he‘d stopped by, or some stupid clumsy move. A fist through the wall was hard to explain no matter how much of a Winchester he was.

 

He took a deep breath and forced himself to sit down again. He had to get through this chapter, had to finish studying. One bad test grade wasn’t going to affect his GPA, it was true, but he had to do something to keep his mind off of Dean and that night. It hadn’t meant as much as he’d thought, at least not to his brother, and he’d gotten along just fine for two years.

 

There was no reason for him to ruin things here over something that meant absolutely nothing to his brother. He doesn’t want to think that it meant nothing to him, but hadn’t it? He’d left. That time he had been the one to walk away. Sam had…he’d been stupid. He’d let things get out of hand.

 

Dean hadn’t been himself that night and he should have known that meant nothing would last. He’d change his mind in a matter of seconds and leave Sam as broken as he’d left Dean.

 

He could still remember everything about that night, as much as he hated it and wanted to forget. But there’s no escaping it tonight and he might as well just give in and relive it. It’s not like he knew any other way to end the anxious, frustrated feeling that was gnawing at his gut.

 

Sam dropped his head forward into his hands and shut his eyes against hot tears threatening to spill over. How could one night two years ago still tear at his heart like this? Two fucking years, one god damn night, and he was questioning everything.

****

**“Dean?” Sam mumbled, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “What are you doing here? It’s-“ he glanced at the alarm clock. “It’s two in the morning Dean, what’s wrong?”**

**He shot up in bed, his senses on full alert now. His brother didn’t come visit him at Stanford ever, especially not at two in the morning. Not unless something had happened to dad, or to him.**

**He swallowed the panic building and shoved back the covers, thankful that he’d gone home without Jess tonight. This would have been a hard one to talk his way out of.**

**“Dean, what’s wrong?” Sam repeated anxiously. “Did something happen to dad? Are you okay?”**

**“No,” Dean whispered, his eyes downcast. “I’m not.”**

**“What happened?” he demanded, grasping his brother’s biceps carefully. “Are you hurt?”**

**“More then ever,” he admitted.**

**“Dammit, Dean, look at me!”**

**Dean didn’t move, just let Sam manhandle him over to sit on the bed without a word. Sam was seconds away from rushing his brother to a hospital when he realized what was wrong. The only time his brother’s ever been this cooperative is when he’s drunk or too doped up on morphine or whatever other painkillers dad had on hand after a bad hunt.**

**“You’re drunk,” he breathed. “Unbelievable!”**

**Sam turned away and punched the air with frustration. Dean broke into his apartment in the middle of the night drunk just to fuck with his head! What the hell was that? It’d been forever since he’d seen his brother, since he’d even talked to him. Now he showed up _drunk_?**

**“I need you Sammy. I don’t know how to be without you,” Dean choked out, suddenly.**

**His first real words since he showed up and they’re enough to rip Sam’s heart out and drop kick it across the room. He whirled around to stare in shock at Dean. It was the first time, the only time his brother had ever said he needed something. Had ever opened up to Sam at all.**

**“Dean, I…” _I what_? He thought miserably. _I’m sorry I broke up what was left of our family? I’m sorry I left you with someone who can’t take care of you, can’t love you like I do or like you always did for me?_**

**Those weren’t the right things to say. True as they may be, they weren’t right. They only made things seem worse.**

**He wasn’t sorry for leaving, only sorry for leaving Dean. But this had been something he needed to do. He needed to find a life that he could live with. Something that wouldn’t keep him awake at night, or give him nightmares so bad he somehow always found his way to Dean’s bed in the middle of the night.**

**He needed to breathe and to let his brother breathe.**

**Apparently he was wrong about his theory though, because Dean was doing anything but that. He’d been wrapped up in him for far too long to live a normal life. And Sam was afraid that he was the same way, with just a better cover. After all he’d been the one relying on Dean. It was easier to pretend when he wasn’t the one that had to hold everything together.**

**“I need another drink,” Dean muttered.**

**“I think that’s the last thing you need.”**

**“How would you know what I need?” Dean snapped.**

**Sam clenched his jaw and reminded himself that he’d been the one to hurt Dean in the first place. He hadn‘t expected things to work out perfectly, had he? “You’re my brother, I think I know you pretty well,” Sam bit out.**

**He didn’t want to be angry, he didn’t want to fight with his brother. He hadn’t seen him in almost a year, the last thing he wanted to do was waste time. Because if he knew his brother, he didn’t have a whole lot of time.**

**“Yeah?” he sneered.**

**“Yeah,” Sam answered swallowing anything else he might regret. “You came here to drive me insane, like always. Probably changed your mind-” he paused for a second, shaking his head. “More then a few times if the cheap alcohol’s any indication, before giving up. You’ll say what you want and then you’ll tell me the same thing Dad did, that you don’t want me in your life anymore. That I’ve made my decision. So, big _brother_ , how well do I know you?”**

**He watched Dean’s face empty and his shoulders slump so slightly he probably wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t staring at his brother, waiting, dreading his next sneering remark confirming everything he’d said.**

**Instead his voice dropped along with his shoulders. “Not as well as you think little brother.”**

**Still not ready to let go of his fear and grab onto what little hope Dean was giving him, he raised his voice in irritation. “Oh, did I leave something out? Maybe a little hustling, a little fucking first. Then the drinking. So now all that leaves is-**

**“Please, Sam,” Dean pleaded. “I need you.”**

**Sam‘s mouth snapped shut and his throat tightened. Please what? Dean wasn’t giving him much here, just a broken look, rough, strained voice and a _please, Sam. I need you_. **

**It was enough to make him do whatever it is that Dean wants, but he just doesn’t know what that is. Did he want him to come back with him? Did he want him to tell him that he feels the same? Or did he just want Sam to hurt like he did?**

**He swallowed hard and wrapped his hand around Dean’s wrist, pulling him forward. If he had known this was what it would take to get Dean talking he would have gone drinking with his brother years ago. Would have practically forced the bottle into his hand to get some answers out of him.**

**Dean flinched, waves of guilt washing over him again. What the hell had he been thinking? Was he going to try and hug his brother? The one he’d hurt, had pushed away, had left without saying _goodbye_? **

**Dean didn’t hug, he barely let Sam touch him at all. Near death experience was an extenuating circumstance that sometimes didn’t even warrant a hug in his brother’s mind, unless it was Sam who had almost died.**

**“You left, Sam. “Didn’t you need-” He broke off, his fingers slipping around Sam’s wrist.**

**Sam waited, his eyes drawn to Dean’s thumb stroking lightly back and forth. It was soothing, a reminder that he wasn’t as alone as he felt sometimes and it had him ready to practically beg for Dean’s understanding and forgiveness. Anything to get his brother to finish that sentence.**

**But it wasn’t going to happen. The longer he stared at their near linked hands in silence, the more apparent it became that he wasn’t drunk enough to finish that thought and follow through with it’s consequences.**

**“ _You_?” he finished for him. **

**When Dean nodded he took a deep breath and confessed what he thought Dean needed to hear, what _he_ needed to say. “I needed you. I still do.”**

**Dean’s face scrunched up in a look of confusion. “You do?”**

**“Of course I do. You think because I left that means I stopped caring about you?”**

**_well I found my way back_ **

**_you'll never be alone again_ **

**_isn't that what you want_ **

**_no you'll never be alone again_ **

**_I am right here with you_ **

**How had he left his brother thinking something like that? Sure he’d been angry at dad for telling him to stay gone and he’d been mad at Dean for not stepping in and taking his side, like always. If Dean had talked to dad, had made him see for once that Sam wasn’t trying to hurt their family maybe he’d still have one.**

**It wasn’t fair to put all of that on Dean though. He’d made a choice and so had dad. Dean didn’t control them. But Sam _had_ let his childishness control him and hurt his brother in the process. Left him for almost a year thinking he meant _nothing_.**

**He’d never felt more sick and disgusted then he did right now, seeing how he’d hurt Dean. Pushing him away, making him think the only way he could come here was drunk and in the middle of the night, probably intent on never even talking to him.**

**Sam sighed, “Look, Dean…man, I didn’t mean for things to be this way.”**

**“And what way did you _mean_ for them to be?” Dean snorted, bitterness edging back into his tone. **

**“I don’t know Dean, but not like this! It’s not like I left because I don’t care about you, because I do. You _know_ I do. But I couldn’t stay there anymore.”**

**“I guess it doesn’t matter, as long as you’ve got normal right?”**

**“You know what, it’s not even about normal okay?“ Sam snapped. He was sick of having that thrown in his face. He’d heard it enough the night Dad had found out about Stanford and his free ride. It wasn’t about that, not completely. “I was miserable. All we did was hunt and fight. Dad was jumping down my throat about everything, you were fucking everything with a pulse. I couldn’t do it anymore, Dean. I was going crazy there!”**

**Dean was running hot and cold, one second making Sam second guess his leaving and the next reminding him exactly why he’d left. To escape, to stop feeling like a burden and a hundred other reasons that no matter how he explained them to Dean, would sound like excuses.**

**He dropped down beside Dean on the bed, suddenly exhausted. Their shoulders brushed, seeming to startle Dean at first, his thumb stopping mid-stroke, only to pick up it’s calming rhythm seconds later. Letting Sam know that even if he was angry, he was just as reluctant as Sam to close things off completely.**

**This wasn’t going well. Everything he said seemed to make things worse. But Dean was giving him another chance to try and make things right.**

**“I wanted to say goodbye,” he started again. “I just didn’t know if I could leave then. Maybe it was better you didn’t come back.”**

**Dean shrugged. “I didn’t come back because I didn’t think I could say goodbye, not without hurting you. I didn’t want things to end like that with us.”**

**Sam turned slightly on the bed to face him. “Isn’t that why you came here tonight? To end things _exactly_ like that?” He tried hard to keep to his face empty as he waited for Dean to shatter any hope he had left of keeping his brother. It was his own fault for letting any one of Dean’s drunken pleas or touches lead him into some false sense of security. **

**He had been the one to walk away after all.**

**“I told you, you didn’t know me as well as you thought Sam. _I_ don’t even know why I came here,” he answered, laying back on the bed. **

**Sam shifted, facing the wall again. His brother was getting harder to understand every second. He didn’t know what it was he wanted and apparently neither did Dean.**

**“You don’t know why you came here?” he asked anyway.**

**Dean glanced over at him. “No.”**

**He nodded and let it go, laying back on the bed beside Dean.**

**“You didn’t come here to tell me the same thing Dad did?” he questioned nervously.**

**Okay, so maybe he couldn’t quite let it go. At least not yet.**

**It had hurt to hear those words from Dad, to hear them from Dean was more than he could stand. But he had to know the truth. It was better that way, there were no surprises later about how Dean felt and he could get rid of any false ideas he had here and now.**

**“Sammy, he didn’t mean it.”**

**“Sure sounded like he did.”**

**Dean sighed and tugged on Sam’s wrist. “He _didn’t_ mean it.”**

**He shrugged. It was hard for him to believe that. Dean hadn’t been there afterward, hadn’t seen the look on Dad’s face. He’d never heard Dad so set on anything before in his life, not even when it came to hunting.**

**“I could never mean that, Sammy. And Dad couldn’t either,” he promised, scooting over until his side was pressed firmly against Sam’s.**

**He shook off the unspoken sympathy from his brother and changed the subject to something he should have brought up sooner. Avoided the fighting and gone straight for the _dude, no chick flick moments_. But that would have been much too easy. **

**“Happy Birthday, Dean.”**

**“You remembered.”**

**“When have I ever forgotten?” he chided, knocking his hip against Dean’s.**

**Dean grinned and shrugged.**

**“I was going to call you. I was hoping I’d get the voicemail, but I was still going to call.”**

**“Yeah?” Dean asked, sounding a little surprised.**

**“Yeah.”**

**He nodded and returned to his own thoughts, leaving Sam to marvel at how quickly things had changed between them once again. For the first time Dean had come there, he was beginning to feel comfortable.**

**It may have been the high he seemed to get from the feel of Dean lying next to him, hip to hip, or some deep seated need to ease Dean’s pain, to return the favor of sleepless nights made better by soft, soothing words. Or just the need for Dean, for his older brother. Whatever the reason, he couldn’t have stopped the next words from tumbling out of his mouth if he’d wanted to.**

**“Stay with me,” he said suddenly, his breath catching as he waited.**

**He felt Dean’s body stiffen next to his. “What?”**

**“Stay with me,” he repeated, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. It was a risk asking him to stay, but Dean seemed almost as desperate for Sam as he was for Dean. And there was no taking it back now.**

**Dean rolled over and threw an arm around him, fitting himself into the curve of Sam’s body. Heat flooded through him and it was all he could do not to pull Dean into a hug. His brother hadn’t said he’d stay, he hadn’t said anything. But this was enough.**

**He quickly smiled to cover his shock, his stomach twisting harder at the look that flashed behind Dean’s eyes before returning to warmth. He’d been shocked by Dean’s allowance of touch in the first place, but to initiate it? It floored him almost as much as his ready admittance of need, even if he was half drunk off his ass.**

**Maybe that was all it would have taken for things to work, for this past year to have been a little less like torture and a little more like the freedom he’d been searching for. All he’d had to do was tell Dean he needed him, loved him. Then tonight wouldn’t have happened, wouldn’t have _had_ to happen.**

__

_I know you feel me next to you_

_you can’t shake me off, you can’t shake me off, this time around_

_you’re trying hard to kill the truth_

_so stop playing around, stop playing around, you know you’re not alone_

 

Sam jumped to his feet, scrubbing his face furiously as if that could erase the waves of memory and warmth that threatened to knock him on his ass. There was no use in playing things over in his mind. He knew how the night went, he knew he spent the rest of the night wrapped up in Dean’s arms like he hadn’t done since he was a child. That Dean was gone in the morning, no note, no goodbye.

 

Nothing.

 

He knew he had no explanation for it. Had no way of explaining his brother’s thinking, his showing up and declaring a need to have Sam around and then being able to walk away hours later while he slept. Maybe not even hours, knowing Dean.

 

The only explanation he had was for the disappointment and regret at the pit of his stomach, that wouldn’t go away.


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: Ugh, I'm completely depressed now...I've just gotten into GG and the friend that got me hooked has all the seasons. Well we got halfway through the second one and I'm dying here! I hate Jess so much! Then Dean, I know gets married later to some Lindsey or whatever, n guh! So yes...my therapy is posting. Well, technically the reviews you give are my therapy, posting is how I get to the therapy. Lol so anyway, review and take away this depression so I can continue to write!   


* * *

Dean’s birthday was in a week and he was alone in a bar, in some nowhere town in Colorado torturing himself. Dad was gone without a word. Had been for almost a week now. So he’d come here to drink, maybe hustle. Anything to keep his mind off his birthday.

 

Off that night.

 

He found himself thinking about it more and more. Found his concentration slipping and his need for hunting growing stronger.

 

Not to mention the need for some serious drinks.

 

Like now.

 

But even the slow burn of alcohol going down couldn’t stop his mind from going over things for the millionth time. The drunker he got, the more one track his mind became, until even girls became boring.

 

With two more shots and a heavy sigh, he felt himself sink into it again. The image of his brother’s chocolate brown, puppy dog eyes as broken as his own, filling his mind. It’d been like looking into a mirror in the beginning. Same broken, confusion carefully masked.

 

Ironically that night had begun like this. A stop in a bar, intent on drinking his troubles away. Or at least forgetting them for a few hours. And then suddenly he was in Palo Alto, more than a little buzzed.

****

**Dean leaned heavily against the doorframe, watching Sam sleep. His brother’s arm was thrown over his face, his legs tangled in the sheets and sleeping more peacefully than he’d seen in a long time. Then again it’d been a long time since he’d seen Sam at all.**

**Sam shifted and stirred, clearly sensing Dean’s presence. He wasn’t sure if he was more thrilled by it or annoyed by it as Sam rolled over and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He was groggy and probably would have drifted back to sleep if he hadn’t noticed Dean standing in the doorway.**

**“Dean?” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “It’s two in the morning Dean, what’s wrong?”**

**He opened his mouth to say something, no doubt something smart assed, when Sam shot up in bed finally coming to his senses. If nothing else he hadn’t lost the sense of safety with Dean in a room, because had it been any one else Dean was sure he would have been awake and ready before they’d even stepped foot in his apartment.**

**Still, it was hard not to be amused at Sam’s panic. He’d expected anger or annoyance if ever came to Sam. Especially at two in the morning, something his brother continued to point out, as if that somehow would change the fact that Dean was there standing in his doorway.**

**“Dean what’s wrong? Did something happen to Dad? Are you okay?”**

**He tried to focus more on Sam, his head beginning to hurt from all of Sam’s panicked questions, that just kept coming.**

**“No,” he whispered, his eyes burning with unshed tears. “I’m not.”**

**He kept his gaze down on Sam’s stomach, memorizing the small bit of skin that peeked out from beneath his shirt, while he reigned in his reaction. _It’s just Sam_ , he reminded himself miserably. **

**“What happened? Are you hurt?”**

**Dean’s gaze drifted from Sam’s stomach to his hands as they came to grip his biceps. He realized then that he wasn’t answering Sam, and his brother was growing more anxious with every question he fired off. If he wasn’t careful Sam was going to drag his ass to the nearest hospital or strip him down to find what Dean wasn’t saying.**

**It was hard for him to concentrate though. Hard to keep himself from doing something stupid, like hugging Sam. If he hugged him now he might never let him go and that was not an option. He’d probably give Sam a heart attack anyway.**

**“More then ever,” Dean finally admitted, careful to keep his eyes from Sam’s.**

**That fact hadn’t escaped Sam and it obviously didn’t sit well with him because he gave Dean a gentle shake, with a commanding “Dammit, Dean, look at me!”**

**But he didn’t move. He didn’t trust himself not to break completely now that he was here. He let his brother worry and ask questions, hardly noticing when Sam pushed him gently onto the bed.**

**He could feel Sam’s eyes burning into his skull, could practically feel his hands itching to shake him again. Or maybe hit him when he realized that Dean had, had a drink.**

**Or two.**

**Sam’s eyes left him for the first time, only to relieve his frustration by punching a fist into the air. Funny, Dean would have expected him to hit him instead. It was much more satisfying then punching air. Something Sam already knew he was sure.**

**He kept talking though and Dean kept wondering what the hell he was doing here. He’d barely heard a word Sam said, his head buzzing with questions of his own and his stomach twisted into knots. He didn’t know what to do or to say, didn’t know if there was anything to do or say to Sam.**

**He almost stood up to leave, sure that it was the only option he had, when his mouth suddenly took over and he choked out the words he’d been holding back for far too long.**

**“I need you Sammy. I don’t know how to be without you.”**

**He didn’t know where those words had come from, hadn’t known they were even there waiting to get out. He was drunk and stupid and dammit if he didn’t miss his baby brother.**

**Dean scrubbed his face furiously the second Sam’s gaze landed on him, as if that could stop or hide the tears he would only deny later from his younger brother.**

**But dammit, it was the truth. His whole life had been about Sam, how was he supposed to be now? What the hell did he do outside of the hunt? What about the downtime, the breaks? Dad was never there and if he was, he wasn’t really there. His mind was always on the hunt.**

**It didn’t hurt him to lose Sam the way it hurt Dean.**

**He was never alone the way Dean was.**

**God dammit, why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut? He just kept saying things. He should keep his mouth shut and leave now. He didn’t even know what he was doing here. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Just stop in and see Sam. Make sure he’s alive.**

**Make sure he’s still his Sammy.**

**He hadn’t talked to Sam in almost a year and it was suffocating.**

**“Dean, I…” Sam stopped, his face a mess of emotions. So jumbled Dean couldn’t even begin to read them.**

**“I need another drink,” he muttered, hoping to offset his confession. He didn’t want to hear whatever excuses or halfhearted apologies Sam had, of that he was sure.**

**And it worked at least until Sam spoke again, and his mouth got carried away. “I think that’s the last thing you need.”**

**“How would you know what I need?” he snapped.**

**He winced inwardly at his tone. Dammit, he hadn’t come here to attack Sam. To fight with him. He’d come here to see him, just to see him. Maybe torture himself a little bit with the knowledge that Sam was happy without him.**

**Was happier because he wasn’t with him.**

**He watched Sam’s face empty, his jaw clenching tight. He hadn’t meant to say that, it had just slipped out like the last confession. And it held just as much truth behind it, whether either of them had realized it until now.**

**“You’re my brother, I think I know you pretty well.”**

**Sam’s own tone was biting now, obviously feeling as if he was under attack. And that only adds fuel to his fire.**

**“Yeah?” he sneered, long ago given up on controlling his mouth. Just what the hell did Sam think he knew about him? He didn’t know a God damn thing about him. Because if he did, he’d know that Dean didn’t want to fight. He’d know that Dean was only lashing out to protect himself and Sam would call him on it.**

**But he didn’t know a damn thing about him, and he wasn’t calling him on his insecurities or fears. No matter how big a mess of insecurities he was at the moment.**

**“Yeah,” Sam answered matter-of-factly. “You came here to drive me insane, like always. Probably changed your mind-” he paused and shook his head in disgust as he looked him over. “More than a few times if the cheap alcohol’s any indication, before giving up. You’ll say what you want and then you’ll tell me the same thing Dad did, that you don’t want me in your life anymore. That I’ve made my decision. So, big _brother_ , how well do I know you?”**

**Dean swallowed thickly. Sam had it right up to the end. He had changed his mind a few too many times, or maybe not enough depending on how he wanted to look at it. But the last thing on his mind was pushing Sam away. Was hurting him.**

**Then again so far, it was hard to see that.**

**“Not as well as you think, little brother,” he said quietly, sure to add the little brother on as Sam had added big brother.**

**But Sam wasn’t in the forgiving mood it seemed because he kept on. “Oh, did I leave something out? Maybe a little hustling, a little fucking first. Then the drinking. So now all that leaves is-”**

**“Please, Sam,” he found himself damn near pleading and interrupting Sam‘s rant. “I need you.”**

**There it was again. That damn uncontrollable mouth of his, spouting off idiotic things that would only leave him vulnerable and hurting. Two things Dean Winchester didn’t do well, if at all. He was supposed to be strong and cocky, ready with a quick remark. Not the sharing, caring type who walked around with his heart on his sleeve. That wasn’t him. Never had been.**

**Dean was as unsure about what he wants from Sam as he is. All he knows is that he wants his brother in his life. _Needs_ him. He just wants Sam to take away the never ending ache in his chest and the constant sting at the back of his eyes. That’s all he wants. **

**Sam stared at him, instinctively reaching for Dean and tugging him forward. He flinched at Sam’s touch, suddenly becoming agitated again. It was one thing for him to come here to see Sam, it was another thing entirely to tell him how he was feeling. To let Sam get anywhere near him like this. And it was suddenly kicking in just how stupid this all was.**

**He didn’t know what he’d been thinking showing up here. The drinking had clouded his judgment, was _still_ clouding his judgment, and somehow he’d wound up here making an idiot of himself. **

**Dean almost voiced those thoughts, but the look on Sam’s face pushed those thoughts clear out of his head and he found himself wanting to reach out and pull his brother in for a hug. It was so easy to forget that he was angry with Sam and hurt. All he had to do was look at him like that. It made him feel like he’d kicked a puppy.**

**You left, Sam,” He said needlessly, but having no other words for what was driving this insanity. “Didn’t you need-” He broke off, his fingers slipping around Sam’s wrist. Quietly trying to understand why Sam had left. To cling to the hope that what had happened, why he’d left hadn’t been his fault, hadn’t been because he wouldn’t stand up for him, hadn’t been because he was selfish enough to just expect Sam to stick around no matter what he felt.**

**He brushed his thumb back and forth against Sam’s wrist, giving himself something else to think about while Sam searched for a new way to drive him crazy.**

**“ _You_?” Sam finished. He tensed and waited for Sam to laugh at the idiocy of his almost question, the knots in his stomach doubling.**

**He nodded reluctantly, resigned to the fact that it wouldn’t take a college boy like Sam to figure out that, that was exactly what he’d been asking.**

**“I needed you. I still do.”**

**Dean felt as if Sam had just sucker punched him. “You do?”**

**“Of course I do. You think because I left that means I stopped caring about you?” Sam sighed, “Look, Dean…man, I didn’t mean for things to be this way.”**

**“And what way did you _mean_ for them to be?” Dean snorted, bitterness edging back into his tone. How could Sam say he needed him too and then expect him to understand why he’d left? **

**“I don’t know Dean, but not like this! It’s not like I left because I don’t care about you, because I do. You _know_ I do. But I couldn’t stay there anymore.”**

**“I guess it doesn’t matter, as long as you’ve got normal right?”**

**“You know what, it’s not even about normal okay? I was miserable. All we did was hunt and fight. Dad was jumping down my throat about everything, you were fucking everything with a pulse. I couldn’t do it anymore, Dean. I was going crazy there!”**

**Dean knew that. Sam didn’t have to give him the play by play. It wasn’t hard to tell Sam was unhappy. He started fighting more and more with Dad, and Dean began to visit the bars more frequently, until he’d slept with nearly every woman there.**

**It had been stupid and childish. He couldn’t stand to be in the middle of their fights and so he ran away. He gave Sam the idea that he was alone in the fight. Of course he’d run off the first chance he got.**

**Sam dropped down next to him, his shoulder brushing his. He stopped mid-stroke, letting the feel of Sam fill his senses for a second before picking it back up. Nothing about tonight was going as he’d planned. It was just one thing after the other, but he still wasn’t ready to give up. And he was hoping Sam felt the same way.**

**“I wanted to say goodbye,” Sam said breaking the silence. “I just didn’t know if I could leave then. Maybe it was better you didn’t come back.”**

**Dean shrugged, determined not to let the fact that his heart had skipped a beat at Sam‘s words show on his face. “I didn’t come back because I didn’t think I could say goodbye, not without hurting you. I didn’t want things to end like that with us.”**

**Sam turned slightly on the bed to face him. “Isn’t that why you came here tonight? To end things _exactly_ like that?” **

**“I told you, you didn’t know me as well as you thought Sam. _I_ don’t even know why I came here,” he answered, laying back on the bed. And he didn’t. Not really. Just that he missed Sam and had needed to see him, like every day since he’d left. This time he’d just been too weak to stay away. **

**Sam shifted back to face the wall, lost in his own thoughts. Dean waited for him to start up again, sure that it was only a matter of time before Sam’s thoughts turned to questions.**

**He didn’t have long to wait, under two minutes really, before Sam turned back to him, unsure, and asked “You don’t know why you came here?”**

**He glanced at him for a second, wondering if he was suspicious of something and said “No.”**

**His brother settled back on the bed next to him, a warm wave of comfort washing over him as Sam’s shoulder brushed his. After almost a year of nothing to feel him next to Sam like this, by choice, was enough to have him dropping his guard.**

**“You didn’t come here to tell me the same thing Dad did?” Sam asked suddenly, unable to drop it, as was his trademark.**

**Dean ignored the direct question because Sam knew Dean would never say that, let alone mean it. It was Dad he wasn’t sure of. He was never sure of Dad.**

**“Sammy, he didn’t mean it.”**

**“Sure sounded like he did,” Sam said miserably.**

**He sighed. “He _didn’t_ mean it,” he reassured him, tugging on Sam’s wrist. **

**Sam nodded, but Dean knew that whether Sam said anything about it or brought it up again, he wasn’t going to let it go. He _couldn’t_ let it go. Like Dean couldn’t let Sam go. It was that need to feel like someone, somewhere still cared about you. Still wanted and needed you. **

**“I could never mean that, Sammy. And Dad couldn’t either,” he soothed. Dad would probably never admit it, not without a gun held to his head anyway, but it was the truth. Dean could feel it in his bones.**

**Dad could no more turn away from Sam, then he could turn away from his obsession.**

**Dean scooted over slightly, bringing Sam fully against his side. Hip to hip.**

**“Happy Birthday,” Sam said, changing the subject.**

**“You remembered,” Dean said, having forgotten himself for a split second.**

**“When have I ever forgotten?”**

**He grinned and shrugged. Sam had forgotten his birthday about as many times as he’d forgotten Sam’s.**

**Never.**

**“I was going to call you. I was hoping I’d get the voicemail, but I was still going to call.”**

**“Yeah?” Dean asked, tilting his head back a little to look at his brother curiously.**

**“Yeah.”**

**He nodded and returned his gaze to the ceiling. That’s what had driven him here, he realized. It had been his birthday. Since Sam was born, Dean had never spent a birthday without him. And this year he hadn’t wanted it to be any different.**

**“Stay with me,” Sam said suddenly breaking the silence again.**

**He stiffened, sure that he’d misheard him. Sure that the greatest birthday wish he‘d ever had, had _not_ just come true. “What?”**

**“Stay with me,” he repeated.**

**Dean’s heart clenched as Sam said those words a second time. He hadn’t misheard Sam, he’d really said it. He’d really asked Dean to stay with him. But Sam didn’t look at him and he wasn’t sure if he’d said to because he wanted Dean to stay or because he wanted to stop Dean’s hurt. To fix things so badly between them, because he thought Dean was desperate for him.**

**Dean was desperate for Sam, he’d come as close to admitting it as he could tonight. But to stay with Sam? Even if his request wasn’t out of pity, he didn’t fit into Sam’s new world anymore than Sam felt he fit into Dean’s. His brother had decided to move on, he’d made that decision all on his own.**

**And it was time Dean made his own decision too. No matter how much it hurt.**

**He rolled onto his side, throwing an arm over his younger brother, and curling against him. He watched the shock register on Sam’s face and tried not to flinch. He hadn’t realized how cold and cut off he’d really been with Sam. He’d always assumed things were okay with them.**

**Maybe if he’d thought a little more about the way things were for his little brother it wouldn’t have come to this.**

**It wouldn’t have come to goodbye.**

**It was easier to take the blame for pushing Sam away, than to accept that maybe Sam wanted to push _him_ away.**

**Sam seemed satisfied with that answer and soon his breathing became shallow. Dean pressed his face into Sam’s shoulder and resisted the urge to fall asleep with him. He had a nagging feeling that in the morning he would come to regret the things he’d said to Sam, because his sweet and childish request, would be seen for what it was in the clear light of day.**

**He wasn’t stupid and neither was Dean. Things just couldn’t work.**

**Dean slid off the bed, careful not to wake his brother and stepped towards the door. He hesitated a moment, indulging in the fantasy of actually staying for about a half a second before running into the proverbial brick wall.**

**He’d get bored and irritable. He’d hurt Sam, Sam would give him the puppy dog look and they’d spend the rest of their lives apologizing to each other. He turned around and pressed a kiss to Sam’s forehead before turning and crossing the room.**

**It was better for both of them if he left now. No sappy goodbyes, or puppy dog looks. A quick and painless exit.**

**For Sam at least.**

****

Downing another shot, Dean shook himself free of the memory. He’d felt cold ever since that night, like Sam’s body had sucked all the warmth from him and the only way to get it back was to be with Sam again.

 

For two years he’d been left cold and regretful, wondering if he’d hurt Sam or if Sam had gotten up the next morning and went on with his life. Wondering if that night had left even a dent in his perfect life.

 

Because it sure the hell had left one in Dean’s.


	3. Chapter 3

  
Author's notes: Okay, here is an update finally. I went through it a few times to check for tense shifts, because I've been writing more than one story at a time and switching tenses is not as easy as I expected. Especially while doped up on meds. :) Yes, I have the flu again. Second time in like a month or so. Bleh. Apologies in advance for any stupid mistakes I made. I'm trying to take a different approach for this chapter, a little less angst because well if that's all I write eventually you're going to hate me. lol, so I've tried to make this one a little less angsty and a little sweeter. Take pity on me and review:) Oh, and the OC won't be very important, but they were necessary for the next few chapters. And you may even be able to spot just who I modeled them after:)   


* * *

_Remember when I was here_

_I tried to be as thick as the world_

 

Sam snorted and shook his head as Maxie told them about the latest loser she’d gone out with. Maxie was smart, but when it came to guys she was hopeless. Or really, just too _hopeful_. She was always falling for quick tempered flirts, hoping that there was something hidden behind that. She may have had a point about that, but as usual she was wrong about _this_ guy.

 

Jess made sympathetic sounds, while Lexa echoed his snort of disbelief. Jason and Zack were caught up in their own conversation. One Sam was sure he didn’t want to be a part of if the looks on their faces was any indication.

 

His eyes were focused on his shoes as they headed towards his apartment, his mind going over today‘s lecture while he half listened to Maxie. Which was his only excuse for not noticing anything out of place until Jess elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

 

“Ow, what?” he yelped in surprise, rubbing his side.

 

“Who is _that_?” Maxie breathed to his right. Lexa and Jess echoed her approval. Obviously meaning it was a guy they were admiring. What it didn’t explain was why they expected Sam to know him.

 

He glanced up, feigning interest for his girlfriend’s benefit, which was a whole other kind of twisted and found his knees weakening. His heart slammed a violent rhythm against his rib cage and his stomach dropped to his feet.

 

“Sam?” Jess asked worriedly, noticing his reaction. “Are you okay?”

 

No, he wasn’t okay. He was far from okay.

 

He was heading home with some friends, his mind finally empty of anything other than school, and suddenly it was thrown back in his face all over again.

 

Leaning against his apartment, one leg crossed over the other, hands shoved in his pockets and head tilted back against the wall, was his nightmare (dream) in the flesh.

 

“Dean?” he gaped, his arm slipping from around Jess. It’d been two years since he’d seen Dean, since he’d last shown up at Stanford. Now here he was, sober and obviously here to talk to Sam. Not sneak in and then out.

 

He stared at his brother, waiting for him to do or say something because he sure the hell didn’t have the mental capacity to do much beyond staring. It was hard to do anything else with Dean around.

 

When Sam _could_ manage something, it was usually to fight with his brother. At least these past few years. Before Stanford, they didn’t fight much. And if they did it was over stupid things they forgot in a matter of minutes. Hours, tops.

 

They didn’t go days, weeks, months, _years_ without talking. It wasn’t possible for them. They were always together, always joking and fighting. Between the hunts, anyway. Dean and Sam were as close as two people could get, or two brothers at least.

 

Maybe closer.

 

Dad had given his fair share of speeches about their behavior. About Sam’s staring, for one. Neither of them had ever taken it seriously though, because it was just a part of them, like the hunt was a part of Dad and Dean. And somewhere, deep down, a part of Sam too.

 

It was so easy to fall back into the rhythm of it. Staring, waiting, counting on Dean. His brother’s mouth tipped up into a smirk or a grin, hands shoved in his pockets. Forcing Sam to smile, even when he wanted to hate Dean.

 

Sammy and Dean.

 

He missed that.

 

xXx

__

_you called me out just to see_

_if I could be real enough_

_to never take your heart from you_

_and leave it all alone_

 

Dean gave him a tilted grin, waiting anxiously for a reaction from Sam besides a shocked, dumbfounded expression.

 

He hadn’t exactly left on great terms. He’d be lucky if Sam didn’t kick his ass right out or at the very least pretend he didn’t know him. If he were Sam he wouldn’t be too excited to claim himself as a brother either after last time.

 

Especially not in front of his Stanford friends.

 

Maybe coming back here hadn’t been the best of ideas, but he hadn’t had much of a choice. He couldn’t focus on hunting, and that could get him killed. There was no way Sam would forgive him if he got himself killed over something so stupid.

 

Or at least he hoped that reasoning held. If Sam didn’t do or say something else real soon though he was going to have to change his opinion on that one.

 

It wasn’t so much the staring that unnerved him, because he’d been through that enough times to know it was just Sammy. But not saying anything, not even cursing at him. That _wasn’t_ Sammy.

 

Hell, he was beginning to wonder if Sam was still breathing.

 

Normally Sam could talk his ear off with the whole sharing your feelings routine, or scolding him for doing something foolish and rushing into things. No matter what Sam did, no matter how much he stared, he always said _something_.

 

You couldn’t shut him up.

 

He missed that.

 

xXx

 

Before he knew what he was doing he was crossing the room in front of everyone and jerking Dean against him. He was hugging Dean Winchester in front of a group of strangers and his brother was _letting_ him.

 

Sam was still vaguely aware of the friends standing behind him in shock and he was vaguely aware of the fact that he should care more than he did.

 

But he didn’t.

 

He’d been spoiled with affection, from his older brother at least, since he was a baby. Even if it wasn’t the all out kind of affection he was inflicting on Dean now.

 

Two years without that was bound to build up. Dean had to have known that, but if he didn’t, who cared? It was happening and there was no taking it back. Like there was no taking back any of the things he’d said or done to his brother over the years. You couldn’t erase the past.

 

A curse and a blessing in some cases.

 

He fisted his hands in Dean’s jacket and held him so tight _he_ couldn’t breathe.

 

The way things had ended last time he should have been angry with Dean, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, just like he couldn’t bring himself to let go of Dean.

 

Another one of Dad’s speeches he could still hear.

 

Another thing he just didn’t give a damn about.

 

The only way he’d let go of Dean was if Dean wanted him to. Or made him. Because just because Dean wanted something, didn’t mean he’d let himself have it. No matter how bad he wanted it, no matter how close it bordered to needing it. Dean did what he thought was best for his family.

 

Not him.

 

Right now, he thought this was best for Sam because he wasn’t pushing him away, scowling at his public affections. Hell, scowling at his affection period. Either that or he was worried about the last time. Worried that this game was going to continue. Because if it did, then it was Sam’s turn to push him away.

 

Something he had no intentions of doing, now or ever, again.

 

They’d wasted so much time hurting each other and then avoiding it. It was stupid and he was over it. He wasn’t going to let Dean walk away this time without knowing for certain that he’d be back.

 

That they weren’t over.

 

xXx

 

Dean laughed quietly and returned the hug, shutting his eyes against tears as Sam buried his face in Dean’s neck. As soon as Sam’s skin touched his warmth flooded through every part of his body. That cold, regretful feeling that had plagued him for the past two years gone in an instant.

 

He shouldn’t have left like that, without saying anything. Leaving Sam thinking that he’d be there in the morning, that maybe he’d really stay.

 

It wasn’t hard for him to see he’d hurt Sam. The way he clung to him was desperate, like he’d been that night.

 

“Sammy,” he breathed, one hand moving to the back of his head.

 

The words _I’m sorry_ , were on the tip of his tongue, along with _please_ and _I love you_. A variety of sappy words that would probably scare Sam more than anything and possibly scar himself for life.

 

He curled his fingers in Sam’s unruly hair and gathered his strength to pull away. No one was going to believe they were brothers if they kept it up. There were five complete strangers standing behind Sam, watching with a mix of interest and embarrassment.

 

Interest being the three females department and the embarrassment that of the two males.

 

Sam had made himself quite a life here. With more friends than Dean had ever had. Or at least had kept. Moving around wasn’t exactly conducive to the whole friendship thing. Not that he’d ever cared that much before.

 

Now he had reason to be grateful for it too. He wasn’t going to be the one scrambling for an explanation in the next few seconds, or make the awkward introductions.

 

He was going to sit back and watch Sam squirm, stammer, and blush, like he did in most uncomfortable situations.

 

Okay, that wasn’t fair. Sam was pretty good at keeping his cool, exterior wise anyway. He was after all a Winchester, even if he wanted to pretend that meant something else.

 

It was more accurate for him to say that Sam squirmed, stammered, and blushed in every uncomfortable situation involving _Dean_. That was, after all, one of the things he lived for.

 

Torturing his dear baby brother.

 

It was only fair after all. Sam had, had him wrapped around his finger for over twenty years. Dean had to find a way to pay him back somehow. And this was the only way he knew how; to make his brother uncomfortable.

 

Besides that it was fun to watch _Sam_ blush. He was after all the one that claimed Sammy was a kid name. Wasn’t blushing something a kid would do?

 

xXx

 

Dean’s bittersweet _Sammy_ , reminded him that they weren’t alone. The vague memory of his friends behind him, no longer vague but blindingly obvious. He reluctantly let go of his brother and turned to face the five speechless college students.

 

One hand remained fisted in Dean’s jacket as he made introductions. “Sorry, uh, Dean this is Maxie, Lexa, Jason, Zack, and Jess. Guys this is my brother. Dean.” He glanced back at him for a second, making sure that this wasn’t a dream or some sick hallucination that his friends would insist warranted a trip to the hospital, or a psychiatrist at the very least.

 

It was Dean. It was most definitely Dean.

 

Maxie stepped forward first, shooting Sam a surprised look but holding her hand out to Dean anyway. “It’s really great to meet you,” she said.

 

Dean gave her his most charming smile and took her hand. Sam’s stomach clenched at the sight. Maxie was sincere to a fault, smart, charming, funny and beautiful. A girl like her was exactly what Dean needed. What Dean _deserved_.

 

Someone to settle down with and see him for who he truly was. Not that Dean would ever let that happen, but still. It was a nice thought for his older brother. And either way Maxie was genuine in her immediate acceptance of Dean.

 

Jess stepped forward next, Maxie’s opening move shaking her out of her surprise. Then Lexa, Jason and Zack. More people than he would normally force on Dean, but hey, he hadn’t been the one to show up out of the blue. That had been all Dean.

 

xXx

__

_I came back down to stay with you_

_even if you don't know_

 

He smiled and shook each hand in turn, suddenly feeling a little uncertain of himself. It wasn’t that they weren’t friendly or welcoming, it was the exact opposite of that, that made him so nervous.

 

The kind of people he met, or spent very little time with, were other hunters or one night stands. They weren’t just _people_. 

 

Dean had to admit that Sam had picked a pretty good group though and was sure somewhere else on campus he had a hundred more like them. Something else that made him very unsure of why he’d come here.

 

He pushed that thought to the back of his mind, because he knew that led to his running away. And he’d just gotten here. If he ran now, Sam would never forgive him. That wasn’t something he wanted to face. Not now at least.

 

The first girl to greet him, Maxie, he thought Sam said her name was, was beautiful to say the least. She was at least 5’6, maybe 5’7, with dark brown hair, that changed almost red in the sunlight, and chocolate brown eyes that reminded him of Sam.

 

He’d bet his right arm the girl had those damn puppy dog eyes his brother had. The two of ‘em probably had some club too; his brother was just deviously sweet enough to think of something like that.

 

Her eyes were honest and open, like Sam’s too. The way those eyes worked for them should have been a crime, he thought

 

Everything about her seemed genuine, sweet. But nowhere near naive. That was probably the first mistake guys made with her. She wasn’t stupid, not by a long shot. If Sam was spending time with her, she couldn’t be.

 

The next was a girl named Jess, the one his brother had, had his arm around. 5’11, blonde, green eyes, gorgeous. This had to be Sam’s girlfriend.

 

Her eyes were light, almost teasing as she smiled and shook his hand. He could see there was something lurking behind her laidback exterior though and it reminded him of himself, unsettling as it was. Not the knowledge of the Supernatural, but maybe a shared pain or understanding that things didn’t always turn out like planned. Still, she was as innocent as they came these days.

 

The third girl was beautiful like the other two (Dean was starting to see a trend here), but was an inch or two or shorter than Maxie, had honey blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Lexa was friendly as the other two, but seemed just a little more distant. Maybe more cynical and careful about who she let into her life than the other girls.

 

Jason and Zack he didn’t pay much attention to; he knew right away he didn’t care for either of them. Jason was an inch or two shorter than Dean, and Zack was around the same. One blonde, one brunette. He didn’t really care which was which. Couldn’t tell you their eye color if his life depended on it.

 

He just knew he didn’t want Sam hanging around either of them.


	4. Chapter 4

When Maxie had suggested going out for a drink Sam had been ready to shoot her down. Ready to make any excuse, promise, or threat necessary to get Dean alone. To talk to his brother.

 

But Dean was full of surprises today.

 

“Sounds good,” Dean said with a quick grin. He turned to Sam expectantly and everything Sam had been ready to say melted into a single nod of his head and a dumbfounded expression.

 

His brother shot him a look of concern but kept his mouth shut. They’d learned over the years when to push and when not to. Silently they kept pace with the group and listened as the conversation switched. They went from griping over bad dates to dragging Lexa and Maxie’s good names right through the mud, courtesy of Zack and Jason and their notoriously bad jokes or just plain stupid comments.

 

Soon all the girls were arguing at once and Sam was worried that Dean and himself would be the only males to actually make it to the bar in one piece. Then again, Zack and Jason probably deserved it. It wasn’t the first time they’d gotten into this conversation, of Maxie setting herself up and both her and Lexa really wanting men to complain about, etc, etc, etc. Jess of course had to step in because what they were saying was “absolute crap” in her words. Not all women were like that, just look at her and Sam.

 

That one had instantly made him feel guilty and want to beg out of going, but he’d ignored it and stared down at his shoes with mock interest., glancing repeatedly at Dean and his amused expression Getting involved was only going to wind up with them jumping down his throat too, because he was male and therefore could have no separate thoughts from the two idiots that had started things. He knew the routine like he knew the map of light freckles on his brother’s face.

 

“You gonna talk Sam, or just stare?” Dean teased quietly. “Because I’m pretty sure we’ve already had that conversation.”

 

“It’s just good to see you,” he answered sincerely.

 

“You too, little brother.”

 

Sam’s heart skipped a beat at Dean’s tone of voice. He sounded as sincere as Sam was. Maybe he really had missed him and leaving last time had been a mistake. Maybe that was why he’d come back.

 

Sam could hope, couldn’t he?

 

xXx

 

Dean swallowed his heart and forced himself to smile. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy to see Sam, because God, was he ever but to act normal now after that hug was damn near impossible. Especially when Sam could stand there and tell him it was good to see him. After everything, Sam wasn’t mad or upset. He was just as relieved and as happy to see Dean, as he was to see Sam.

 

That was beyond amazing.

 

He clapped Sam on the shoulder and followed him silently as they led the way to a local bar, stewing in his own thoughts. Meeting Sam’s friends and going for drinks had never crossed his mind, but he knew that Sam would want him to get to know his friends. If he could act normal, of course. He’d never said he didn’t want Dean in his life or around. He’d asked him to stay last time. He probably hadn’t meant it, but he’d said it all the same.

 

It wouldn’t kill him to have a few drinks and joke around. He did it in every town and somehow had managed to make it through his twenty-six years without it killing him, even if he had only spent the last ten or so in bars.

 

Still, he felt almost awkward sitting in a bar with Sam and his friends. Bright, shining examples of everything he wasn’t and couldn’t be to his brother. They’d done the things Sam had expected of him through High School and made it into a great college, right along with Sam, just as he had expected of Dean.

 

While they were worrying about term papers and dates, Dean was worried about the next scam or hustle. And when they were complaining about going home for Christmas break instead of sticking around for the next frat party or spending the holidays with their friends, he was wishing he had a family to come home _to_.

 

They were everything he wasn’t, with their bright futures and families. Each taking for granted the things he had never had and never would have. But Sammy, Sammy was different. He’d come from the same things Dean had and still somehow he’d managed to bring himself into their world. To ignore what was hidden in the dark and forget that there were things out there to be afraid of. He’d managed to forget the familiar weight of a gun or the way his heart slowed and his body changed on the hunt. What Sam was about now, was term papers and Jess.

 

Dean was still about the same old things. The hunt and family. Or what was left of his family. They were different and he couldn’t change that, like he couldn’t change his life. He wasn’t cut out for this kind of life like Sam or the rest of them. His life had been decided for him the second Dad had placed Sam in his arms, the second that their mother had lost her life. His life became about protecting people and craving a family. It was Dean down to the core. Tonight he could pretend though. For Sam he could just let go and try and forget the things that Sam had packed away so neatly on a shelf.

 

He grinned wider at whatever Sam’s friend, he thought his name was Jason, had said and did his best to be someone else. To be what his brother wanted.

 

xXx

 

Sam tried not to stare at his brother as he joked around with his friends. It didn’t take long for even Lexa to warm up to him and in less than a half hour Sam could see he’d won them all over. He wasn’t really surprised by that. Dean could charm anyone. Which was probably a blessing for Dean considering the kind of mouth he had. His sense of self preservation had always been lacking as well. Sam saw Dean’s charm as a way to keep himself alive and out of as much trouble as possible.

 

Still, he stared a lot more than he meant to. Only occasionally throwing in his own thoughts or half hearted sarcasm. He was still in shock over Dean being there, of actually accepting to spend time with his friends. When he’d left Dean had seemed so heartbroken and disgusted. Obviously more with Sam, than the idea of college. Because he was treating them like anyone else.

 

Dean’s long legs were spread out in front of him, his arm hitched over the back of his chair. Smirking and running his mouth. It was just like old times, only it wasn’t. Dean seemed so relaxed and calm he was beginning to doubt that any of this was real. He knew his brother and his brother was never like this around anyone other than him or Dad. But not usually when they were together, because that was all about the arguing.

 

He frowned as Dean’s gaze flickered over to his for a moment, questioning silently. He gave a slight shake of his head and a weak smile. No reason to turn this into drama when things were going so well. Weird, but things could be worse. Dean narrowed his eyes at Sam, the patented _don’t give me that shit, Sammy_ , look and then returned to the conversation. He may have let it go for now but he was letting Sam know that it hadn’t been dropped all together.

 

Jess elbowed him gently in the ribs and he tore his gaze from Dean. He managed a smile and draped his arm over the back of her chair. If he didn’t get into this conversation soon he was going to have to deal with Dean and Jess. As much as he didn’t want to have that conversation with Dean, he wanted to have it even less with Jess. With Dean at least he could be honest. Jess meant creative cover stories and wide eyed innocence. A trick he’d perfected over the years with Dean.

 

“You okay?” she asked quietly.

 

“Fine,” he said. “I’m just tired and a little out of it. That’s all.”

 

She rolled her eyes. “I can tell. You’ve hardly said a word.”

 

“I think I’ll let Dean handle that. He was always the social one. And I can’t get over the fact that he’s really here,” he confided in her.

 

He smiled more sincerely as she leaned against him. “Well he’s here and you better enjoy it before one of them snatches him up first. Your brother is the hot item of evening.”

 

Sam snorted quietly. Of the evening? Dean was always the “hot item”. Jess grinned and elbowed him a little harder. “You know that things aren’t going to be this calm for long. The second he leaves that seat it’s all on you.”

 

Oh great. That was exactly what he needed, to be in the hot seat. He liked that Dean was taking control of things right now. It gave him the chance to sit back and reflect on how big of an idiot he’d been over the years.

 

That chance ended as quickly as it came though. Dean stood up and stretched, tan stomach peeking out. His eyes were locked on Sam as he backed up towards the bar. The next round was on him. And Sam was so screwed.

 

xXx

 

Dean let out a heavy breath and leaned against the counter. Being someone he wasn’t, was hard work. He didn’t know how Sam had managed it all this time. Then again maybe this wasn’t pretending for Sam, only Dean. He threw one last glance at his brother before smiling politely at the blonde that had suddenly noticed him. Or that _he_ had finally noticed.

 

It wasn’t unbelievable that he hadn’t seen the blonde earlier. He was with Sam and a group full of beautiful women. Even if he hadn’t been, his mind was completely preoccupied with thoughts of his younger brother and what he had come here for. Believe it or not, women were not high on his list of priorities. Not now anyway.

 

He held his breath that she would take his smile for one of disinterest and looked around almost desperately for the bartender. He didn’t want to get stuck playing games with her as well. He was wearing down pretty fast with Sam’s friends as it was. He didn’t know if his nerves could handle her too, even if she was his type. Beautiful and to never be seen again after.

 

xXx

 

Jess grinned and gave Sam a knowing look. Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner? He should have demanded that Dean not get up. Ever. Should have cut off his supply of beer or whatever other liquids that could send him to the bathroom as well. He did not want to be Dean’s spokesperson. It was just too weird.

 

“Your brother’s great!” Maxie said, shaking her head. And so the questioning would begin.

 

“Yeah,” Sam agreed watching his brother lean one hip against the counter, a pretty blonde smiling at him. He’d barely had time to position himself against the damn counter and already girls were falling all over themselves to get to him. “He is.”

 

“How come you never talk about him?” Lexa asked. “You guys don’t seem to hate each other.”

 

“We don’t.” _At least I don’t_ , Sam thought worriedly. He ignored the sick feeling in his stomach and returned Lexa’s gaze. Her furrowed brow and half grin reminding him that she was waiting for an answer. A real answer. “We just don’t agree on some things.”

 

“Like?” Jess asked this time. Apparently this was going to be an interrogation now that Dean wasn’t here to answer any questions about himself. Because, why ask Dean about Dean when they could ask Sam?

 

“Like family. They weren’t exactly thrilled that I left.”

 

“Why? Stanford is a great school and a full ride, Sam? The way you two are I’m surprised Dean’s not running around town bragging about you.”

 

Sam laughed, more at the idea of Dean doing anything a normal older brother did, than at Lexa’s words. “Yeah well, it was just the three of us. So I sort of broke up the family unit. If Dean had left me, I would have been pissed too.” Granted it was for entirely different reasons, but still. Being left alone with Dad would have been bad for all of them. At least Dean could get through life without wanting to strangle Dad every ten seconds.

 

“Just the three of you?” Jess asked, suddenly more interested in the conversation. Sam forgot that he’d never told Jess about his mother, or at least about the fact that he’d grown up without her.

 

“Yeah, it was just the three of us. My mom died when I was a baby.”

 

“Is that why you and Dean are so close?”

 

Sam shrugged. Maybe. Or maybe it was just the fact that their Dad had been as absent as he could be without his sons forgetting what he looked like. “When my mom died it was like my dad just couldn’t deal with us. So Dean took care of me, taught me everything. We sort of had to be close.”

 

“He must be very smart then,” Jess said, leaning her head on his shoulder. She could tell this was a little uncomfortable for him, at least the subject of his mother, and was doing her best to ease him through this conversation. He’d been through this with her enough times to know it.

 

He smiled and nodded. “More than he gives himself credit for.”

 

“What do you mean?” she asked, dominating the conversation now.

 

“School was never Dean’s thing- he ditched class all the time. The only time you could count on him being at school was during drop off and pick up, for me,” Sam leaned back in his chair. “Never let me cut though, he always wanted something better for me.”

 

He hadn’t realized how true that was until he said it out loud.

 

“What’s better than Stanford?” Maxie piped up. Sam smiled sadly. He knew that like Jess, Maxie was trying to make things easier, trying to reassure him of whatever it was they could see he was struggling with. But truthfully, the only person that could do that was Dean.

 

“I guess better also meant within eyesight.”

 

The girls laughed, exchanging knowing glances. He frowned. It was never good when the three of them were on the same page. Especially not when it came with knowing glances. That was like Dean and a smirk. It guaranteed there would be trouble. At least for Sam.

 

Before he could turn the interrogation around, Maxie spoke up again. “How old were you when your mom died?”

 

“I was six months, Dean was four.”

 

“That’s young. Do you mind if I ask how she died?” she asked softly.

 

Sam fought the urge to get up and run, a deeper understanding of his brother settling with every secret, every memory he gave up to them. But he wasn’t Dean and this was his home now, he couldn’t run from that. There was nowhere to run to.

 

And Maxie was only asking because she cared. That’s what friends did, they cared. He was going to have to learn to accept that one day all the way.

 

“Fire,” he said simply. “Dean carried me out of the house and he’s been carrying me ever since.”

 

He tried not to smile at the shocked expressions on his friends’ faces. He’d never expected to tell them any of this, hell he’d never expected to be here having a beer with his older brother and his new friends. It felt oddly right though once he got past the urge to run. It seemed like someone besides himself should know the sacrifices Dean had made for his family, the things he’d done for Sam.

 

“That’s a lot of responsibility for a four year old. Carrying a six month old baby out of a burning house, then playing mom and dad,” Maxie said, shaking her head in disbelief.

 

“Dad couldn’t deal with losing mom. Dean didn’t have a choice, he’d been with me every day since the day the I was born. He used to sleep in my crib when mom couldn’t calm me down.” Sam smiled at the memory and shook his head. “If you said that to him, he’d just tell you that we’re family and he did what he had to.”

 

An awkward silence fell over the table and Sam instantly regretted letting this interrogation continue. He should have refused to answer their questions, should have changed the subject. Hell he should have told some lame, embarrassing story about his brother that he more than likely would have had to make up. Because Dean didn’t have embarrassing stories. He had fights and fucks. Neither were something he wanted to talk about. Especially not with them.

 

“I bet he got a lot of action out of that story,” Jason finally joked, breaking the heavy silence.

 

Sam laughed. “Maybe. I, uh, I never really thought about it like that.”

 

He had to admit, that was a pretty good story if Dean wanted to melt a few hearts. Not that his brother needed the help, but with Dean you never could tell. It wouldn’t surprise Sam if Dean got bored winning girls over with just his looks or his smart mouth. Girls reacted differently to a guy with a story.

 

At the same time though it sounded off. Dean didn’t like to share with anyone, not even Sam. So for him to walk into a bar and spill a thing like that, even if it was to hook up with a girl, was more than a little out of character.

 

Either way it had lightened things up and he was grateful for that. He hadn’t wanted this to turn into some sad, pity party. He’d brought Dean out with them so they could get to know him. So Dean could see what normal was like and then maybe, if he was ever stupid enough to ask again, Dean would stay.

 

That thought led to other thoughts he shouldn’t have though, which led to feelings he shouldn’t have, which just led to a whole lot of trouble. So joking was good. Drinking, was good.

 

Not thinking, was _good_.

 

While he’d been lost in thought the conversation around him had shifted to a paper Lexa, Jess, and Jason had due in Economics the following week. Griping over papers and professors was something he could deal with.

 

Sam swallowed a sigh of relief as Dean made his way back to the table, somehow managing to side step the blond. Thank God. Sam did not want the conversation to return to his brother. He wanted to fade into the background like he’d been doing and let Dean’s natural charm run the show.

 

Nearly three hours later and a little buzzed, Sam led the way back to his apartment. Jess had decided to give them some breathing room and stay at Maxie and Lexa’s. It wasn’t unusual for the girls to spend the night together for studying or when Jess and Sam were grating on each others nerves, but tonight she’d been planning on staying with Sam.

 

He’d kissed her cheek and waved at his friends before turning around to find Dean smiling at him, a strange look on his face. When he’d asked him what he was thinking, he’d just shook his head and told him he was wondering how he’d gotten stuck with such a dork of a younger brother.

 

Now, they walked silently. All joking aside. It was beginning to wear on Sam’s nerves, more than the conversation he’d had with his friends earlier this evening. It was the first chance they’d really had to be alone since Dean had gotten here. Their more than affectionate public display earlier still hanging between them. His brother hadn’t said anything about it, but if he knew Dean, and he _did_ know Dean, then it was probably the foremost thing on his mind.

 

“They really liked you,” Sam said offhandedly. “They thought you were great actually.”

 

“Yeah?” Dean asked, glancing at him. “I liked them too. Especially that Maxie, she’s…interesting.”

 

Sam laughed. Interesting didn’t even begin to cover Maxie. “Yeah, she’s definitely interesting. That’s one of the great things about Maxie though, no matter how much of a freak you are she doesn’t see it. She just sees you.”

 

Dean nodded. “She’s cute too.”

 

He shook his head, grinning. “Yeah, that too.” Of course Dean would try and offset any real kind of talk with the basics, the physical. It was typical Dean and he’d missed it, as much as it annoyed him.

 

xXx

 

As much as he would have liked to deny it, he’d had a pretty good time with Sam’s friends. They were a fun group. The guys were idiots, but watching the girls tear into them had it’s fair share of perks. Especially Maxie. He’d meant what he’d said about her. If he had any interest in changing his life or any chance of untwisting himself from Sam, he’d fall pretty quick for her. She was sweet and funny, sarcastic and almost bouncy. He could see that she had a weakness for Sam like he did and that she spent a lot of time looking out for him. Something all the girls seemed to have in common. As the night went on he could see that she was pretty laid back, but underneath it she had a nasty temper. You just had to know which buttons to push.

 

Lexa, on the other hand didn’t have a problem with showing her temper. She was sarcastic like he was and had an almost biting tone when you put her on edge. She was funny as hell, if you asked him. Firing one shot after the other and smirking when Jason or Zack had no come back. On the other hand she was sweet too. Not like Maxie or Jess, but she had her soft spots. She really only seemed to take her aggressions out on Zack or Jason, which led him to believe that those idiots were more than just idiots. Maybe she could sense the same things about them that he could. Truthfully he was glad Sam had someone like her around to watch out for him when he couldn’t.

 

And Jess…Sam had found himself a fiery one. It didn’t really surprise him though. Sam had always loved to argue and to pull out those puppy dog eyes on him when he was losing or just because he could. She was probably as a big sucker for them as he was. He’d have to give her some tips on how to keep the puppy dog eyes power abuse to a minimum.

 

At first he’d been a little jealous of her. She had his brother after all and possibly his heart. It wasn’t easy to let that go. But she was beautiful, smart, funny and almost as fiery as Sam. She was pretty hard not to love. He’d given that up pretty quickly, like he’d given up on forgetting Sam. Some things just weren’t worth fighting when you knew you would only lose in the end.

 

All in all he was happy with the friends Sam had chosen. The girls at least. They all looked out for him like Dean did, knowing that while the geek was smart as hell he had some pretty big blind spots. More than he should considering their lives, but Dean could take the blame on some of that. He’d babied Sam a lot growing up and had tried to keep the harsh, bitter feelings he felt flare now and again from touching him.

 

He turned and grinned at his brother. Things were starting to look a little brighter, even if it hurt like hell.

 

xXx

 

Sam returned his grin, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time. They’d spent the entire night together and not argued once. His brother had been all smiles and jokes. Given he was sure a lot of it was false, but not now. When he smiled at Sam he knew it was real.

 

“I should kick your ass though,” Sam said suddenly. He wasn’t sure why he was bringing it up. Maybe so Dean would realize how likeable he really was if he ever just let his guard down.

 

“If you could,” Dean snorted.

 

“Wanna test that theory?” he joked.

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “I can’t beat up my little brother. That’s wrong, man. What are you talking about anyway?”

 

“You leaving the table,” Sam said shaking his head. “The second you left they jumped all over me. I felt like I should have been handing out fact sheets on you.”

 

“I’m surprised they liked me then.”

 

“Dude, they liked you even more by the end of the conversation. I did my best, but you’re just too damn lovable.”

 

Dean full out laughed then. “I’m sure. What’d they want to know?”

 

Sam groaned at the look he gave him. Why did his brother’s mind have to be in the gutter constantly? These were his friends, they weren’t some random girls in a bar in the middle of nowhere. An idea struck him then and he schooled his features carefully.

 

“Actually Jason was betting you get a lot of action.” He stifled a snort of laughter as Dean‘s steps faltered. Sam knew he was talking about the girls, but Dean hadn’t come right out and said it. He might as well have a little fun at his brother’s expense.

 

“What? Dude, Sam, what the hell were you talking about back there?”

 

Sam shrugged and kept walking, wondering how long Dean would let this go before he flat out demanded an answer. “You.”

“Sam,” he warned. “What about me?”

 

“Relax,” Sam laughed. “I was just messing with you.”

 

“So he didn’t say that?” he clarified, his face relaxing.

 

“Oh, no he said it.” This was too much fun. He knew he should stop before he riled Dean up, but the look on Dean’s face was priceless.

 

“I am never leaving you alone again,” Dean grumbled. “Hanging out with perverts. You can’t even choose your own friends, geek boy.”

 

“I know you’re used to people falling all over themselves to get into your pants, but Jason was making a joke.” Okay that hadn’t come out quite right, he realized as Dean shot him a dirty look.

 

“Yeah, that sounded so much better, Sam.”

 

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Maxie was asking about you-”

 

“She was?”

 

“Can we please stay focused here? I told them about you taking care of me, things got a little too heavy so he made a joke out of it. It’s not a big deal.”

 

“Not a big deal? What exactly did you tell them?” Dean demanded.

 

Sam frowned, looking Dean over curiously, his pace slowing. What was he getting so upset about? It was his life too, he could tell them whatever he wanted. “That when mom died you took care of me. I didn’t tell them anything about hunting if that’s what you’re worried about.”

 

“You told them about mom?”

 

“Not everything about mom, obviously. Just that she died in a fire.”

 

“Yeah, Sam. That’s exactly why I did it,” Dean snapped suddenly.

 

Sam stopped and turned to find his brother no longer beside him. “What are you talking about?”

 

“Did you tell him about sleeping in your crib? Because that’s a real hit! He should try it sometime.”

 

“Dean, what are you talking about?” Sam cried, completely lost. Why the hell was he getting so defensive? It was a joke his friend had made to lighten the situation. It wasn’t an insult or a shot at Dean. “Calm down!”

 

“You want me to calm down? My brother just told me that the real reason behind my caring about him, is for the sole purpose of getting laid. How else would you like me to act, Sam?”

 

xXx

 

Dean had left Sam alone for five minutes with his friends and somehow this is the conclusion they’d come to? He’d never even thought of telling that to some girl just to get into her pants.

 

He was never that hard up. And even if he was, using his brother as some kind of sob story was the last thing he would ever do. Sam meant more than that to him. Sam meant everything to him. He wouldn’t cheapen their relationship for a girl. It didn’t matter how gorgeous she was or how badly he wanted to sleep with her.

 

The fact that he’d carried Sam out of that house and annoyed him for the next twenty-two years with his over protectiveness should have told him that he was worth more than a sob story.

 

If that’s all Sam was to him, he’d never make it out of a motel room. He had plenty of lame sob stories he could tell about Sam and their lives on the road. Hell, Sam’s breaking his heart should keep him in a room for a good week with the same girl. All he’d have to do was find another girl and tell her the same thing.

 

What was worse than having your life walk out on you?

 

xXx

 

“Dude, that’s not what he was saying. That’s not what _I_ was saying! It was just-”

 

“Just what, Sam? A possibility? A-”

 

“Dean!” Sam yelled, cutting him off. “It didn’t mean anything. As one track as your mind is sometimes, even I don’t believe that you were figuring out ways to get laid at the age of four. Especially not at the expense of me. It was just a joke to lighten things up, okay? Since when are you so damn sensitive?”

 

What the hell had gotten into Dean? He had meant it as just a meaningless conversation, something to keep the silence between them from getting awkward. Instead he’d turned this into a fight. Exactly what he wanted when things were actually going great between them.

 

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t funny.”

 

“Obviously,” he snorted. “Jokes usually cause laughter, not mental breakdowns.”

 

“Why were you even talking about it in the first place? You wanted normal, mom’s death was anything but. Somehow that’s not what I imagined a normal conversation to be.”

 

“All right, knock it off, Dean. We were just talking.”

 

“Pretty sure I got that. What I don’t get is why you were talking about in the first place.”

 

“They wanted to know more about you.”

 

“So you just felt like telling our life story?” he asked, throwing his arms up.

 

“Dude! What is your problem? If I had known you were going to freak out, I wouldn’t have said anything. _You’re_ the one that showed up, remember?”

 

“Maybe I should leave then,” he fumed. “Is that what you want?”

 

xXx

 

Dean winced. That had been the dumbest thing to come out of his mouth all night. He didn’t want to leave, not like this anyway. His brother had actually welcomed him back after walking out on him without a word. If he left now he was sure that Sam wouldn’t be so forgiving next time. If he even allowed a next time.

 

Sam stood there staring at him, his mouth a tight thin line. And for a heart stopping second Dean thought Sam was going to tell him to leave. That he was sorry Dean had ever walked back into his life. The exact words he’d been fearing earlier.

 

He took a step forward and his worry of Sam’s hurtful words, switched to his fear of Sam’s hurtful fists. Sam may not be the more violent of the two Winchester brothers, but he had his moments.

 

He stood straighter, his fists clenched at his sides. He wouldn’t hit Sam. He deserved whatever Sam gave him after all. He was the one that couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut. He was the one that had suddenly turned into a damn girl over night. Getting riled up at stupid words that Sam had never meant to hurt him.

 

“Is that what _you_ want?” Sam asked quietly, now standing in front of him.

 

Dean swallowed. “No.” If nothing else, he could give Sam the truth about this one. It was just one word. He could manage that without screwing up, couldn’t he?

 

xXx

 

_No_ , that was Dean’s answer.

 

No.

 

He didn’t want to leave. So why was he pushing so hard to break what was finally righting itself between them? Why was he fighting so hard to go if he didn’t want to?

 

“I don’t want you to leave either, Dean.”

 

His brother nodded once. His face as unreadable as ever. Sam returned the nod and turned on his heel. He knew without having to look that Dean would be right behind him when he walked through his apartment door. The question was, for just how long?


End file.
